by Alta Hensley
She gasped, at the truth or the dirty words, I didn’t know and didn’t care. “It’s a good thing,” I said, running my fingertips along her lips. “Do you know why?”
Evidently leery of opening her mouth, she shook her head instead. I leaned closer to speak right at the shell of her ear.
“Because my cock is going to push into your little hole, it’s going to force it to stretch wide and then go deep to pop your anal cherry. And all that is going to help make that easier is that juice your pussy is putting out. Well, that and the spit you’ll provide.”
Pulling back, I again ran my fingers along her cunt, just as wet as before, but this time transferring that wetness up to her anus. She bucked, but kept her buttocks parted, and after several swirls around the puckered rim, she began to give soft little moans, pushing her hips back each time I left her pucker to dip lower to gather more of her cream. Her gasp was sharper as I began to slip a finger inside her ass. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t go slow. I pressed firmly inside, forcing her sphincter to yield, to allow me entrance. Her arms shook, her hips attempted to push down into the table but my hold on her hip assured she was going nowhere. After a few thrusts, I pulled my finger out, only to join another to it, sliding both back inside.
This time, her cry was louder. “Please, it… it’s too much. It hurts.”
“It’s two fingers, far smaller than my cock,” I informed her, continuing to push into her ass. “And yes, it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt, and you are going to fucking love it.”
“I-I don’t like it,” she said, yet her bottom pushed back as if helping to seat the two fingers deeper, and she sighed when they were fully buried. It seemed someone craved the pain just as I had predicted, but wasn’t ready to admit it.
“I don’t care,” I said, beginning to fuck her with my fingers, scissoring them apart, stretching her muscles. Reaching forward, I fisted her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look at me. “Now, ask me politely to let you suck my cock so you can get it nice and wet for your fucking.” I wasn’t truly surprised when she didn’t immediately speak. It was a case of her mind arguing with her body, but the look on her face and the soft, strangled mewl told me exactly which would be the victor.
“May I… please may I suck your cock?”
“Why?”
“Oh God,” she moaned. “I really have to say it?” When I only nodded, she flushed darker but said, “So I can get it wet before you fuck me.”
“Fuck you where?” I asked, enjoying this in more ways than I would have believed possible.
This time, the spark I saw in the depths of her emerald eyes was more than desire. It was a flash of defiance, and that only made the battle all the sweeter. A tug of my hand had her neck arching back another inch. “Where, Monet? Where is my cock going to fuck you?”
Surrendering, she closed her eyes briefly and then opened them, meeting mine. “In my ass.”
“What a dirty girl you are, Monet,” I said, pulling my fingers free of her ass, but used my hold of her hair to pull her up. “Yes, you may suck my cock.” I then pressed her to her knees, the soft hiss she gave ignored. Fisting my cock in one hand, I tugged the handful of curly brown locks, forcing her to look at me, watching as her lips trembled. I ran the head of my cock across her lips, and she allowed them to part slightly. I chuckled deeply.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” They parted a bit more. “That’s right. Open your mouth and suck my cock.”
She didn’t argue, didn’t protest, simply obeyed. Her tongue slid over my dick, lapping at the pre-cum that had begun leaking from the moment she’d lowered her pants. My fingers in her hair kept her in place, guiding her up and down, making sure she understood she wasn’t in charge… not even for this.
“All of it,” I said, pulling her head forward, her involuntary gagging not bothering me in the slightest. I kept her in place for another few seconds then pulled her back, allowing her to breathe deeply. “You’ve got a very short window of opportunity to get my cock as wet as you can. And believe me, Monet, you’re going to want it to be nice and slick when I fuck that tight little ass. Again.”
Her tongue swirled as best it could, attempting to coat every inch of my shaft. It felt incredible, but I wasn’t here to get a blowjob. I was here to pop her cherry. Far sooner than I wanted, I knew I was close to coming, and her mouth wasn’t what I wished to fill. Not this time, at least. I used her hair to tug her head back.
“Open,” I said, and once she had, strings of saliva stretching from her lips to my cock, I grinned. “Looks like you can be a quick learner when you want. Nice and wet. Up and back over the table.”
I helped her to her feet, turning her back to the table. She gave me a look, seeming to be trying to decide whether or not to speak. “The longer you wait, the more my cock will dry.” Her gaze dropped to the cock in my hand, a drop of pre-cum slipping from the tip. Another soft mewl, another rush of color to her face, and she nodded, bending forward, opening her legs and then, without having to be reminded, reached back and separated her buttocks, offering me her sweet, virgin ass.
I took the time to add another few swipes of pussy juice to her little hole, and another moment to push two fingers into her again. Once I felt the muscle begin to surrender, I pulled my fingers free and put the head of my cock at her entrance. Fucking was one of my favorite endeavors, but, by God, sinking into a woman’s ass, was fucking at its finest. The struggle involved, the submission required was almost as sweet as the tight, velvet heat that hugged my cock as I forced it into her ass. Every mewl, each sharp yelp, gasp, and moan was music to my ears.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” I said, having to pause halfway in, her muscles contracting so tightly around my shaft I had to grit my teeth. “It will be easier if you relax.”
“You try relaxing when someone is shoving a telephone pole up your ass,” she snapped.
I had to grin. As much as I loved her surrender, I wasn’t above admitting I rather liked the return of her spirit. Grabbing her hips, I pulled her back onto me, sinking in another inch. “Have it your way.” Without another word, I continued pulling her back and pushing forward, ignoring her squeals, whimpers, and pleas to stop or go slower until I was, at last, buried to the hilt. My body leaned over hers again as I brushed her hair off her neck.
“Congratulations. Your cherry is no more.” I licked along the exposed skin to her ear, taking the lobe in my teeth and giving it a pull, a bite, before releasing it to say, “Now, let’s make sure you won’t ever forget losing it, shall we?” I loved the fact Monet was breathing a bit raggedly, her nipples were even more prominent beneath her shirt, her pussy was still dripping against my body where we were pressed so closely together, and her moan at my declaration, was not one of denial, but one of pure, raw need.
I pulled back slowly, watching my cock slide out, loving her cry as I left her ass, only to line up again and push forward the moment her hole had closed. It was so fucking enjoyable that I did it again, and then again, each time her body taking just slightly longer to recover before being forced to surrender again. The sight of her body struggling to adjust, the push of her hips as if welcoming me back, had the journey easier this time. I could feel my balls tightening and knew that while I wished I could stay and fuck her all night, I was going to explode before too much longer. Reaching for her hair again, I pulled her back, wanting to watch her expression as I truly began to fuck her. I rammed into her again and again, not caring that she released her hold, her hands going to push against the tabletop, bracing herself as I drove in and out of her ass. When I felt her channel actually contract even more, I knew Monet McKnight was definitely anal erotic. The woman might have been an anal virgin, but she was about to experience her first climax with a cock buried in a place other than her cunt.
“You want to come?” I growled, twisting her head back a bit more so she was forced to look at me.
“Yes!”
“I thought you said
you weren’t like that,” I said, snapping my hips forward, pushing her forward on the table. “Are you saying you like it?”
“Please…” she said, her hands clawing at the tabletop as I withdrew, holding only the tip of my cock inside her heat.
“Are you one of those girls who likes a big cock buried deep in her ass?”
“Oh God,” she said.
“Tell me, Monet, what type of girl wants to come as her ass is being fucked?”
“A dirty girl!” she practically shouted. “I’m a dirty girl. Please, God, please let me come.”
“You are a dirty girl,” I said, remembering the way she’d been in a lip-lock with Rogan earlier in the day. “Only a very dirty girl takes a man in her ass after kissing his brother only hours before. Admit it, Monet, admit you want all of us. You want all four of us to fuck you, to make you come.”
She moaned, her head tossing back and forth until I stilled it with a firm tug of her hair. “Admit it.”
“Yes!” she screamed. “I want you all!”
“Yes, you do,” I confirmed. “Now, dirty girl, if you want to come, you better come and come hard. I want to feel you milking my cock while I’m deep in your ass. If I come before you do, you’re out of luck.”
She whimpered but pushed against me, urging me to move harder, faster, deeper, despite the evidence she was experiencing pain with her pleasure. “Fuck me!” she screamed and when I sank to the hilt with a forceful thrust, her breath stopped, her eyes rolled back, and her entire body convulsed.
“Fuck!” I groaned, her contractions like a vise around my cock. I could feel them rippling up and down my length. It was the most amazing sensation. I clenched my jaw, pulled back against the constriction and then pushed forward. Every inch gained was a victory, and when I felt another wave milking my cock, it was my turn to yell as I pushed deep, my balls slapping against her contracting cunt as my seed rushed up my length to erupt deep inside her bowels. “Damn,” I said with a final thrust. Collapsing over her back, I buried my lips at the nape of her neck, listening to her breath hitching with her soft moans.
It took several minutes until I felt I could stand without my legs giving out. I gave her neck a kiss then pushed up, pulling out of her ass, loving the soft whimper she gave. But when I reached down to pull her clothing back up, her cry was much louder.
It was a sound not of pleasure, or even surprise at my actions, but from pain. I had her pants back down as I went to my knees before her. My eyes locked on a thin red line I hadn’t placed on her body. No, this scratch that ran from her thigh to disappear beneath the fabric of her pants right below her knee.
“Goddamn it,” I swore, turning the fabric inside out only to reveal a huge thorn. A thorn embedded in her tender flesh. “Fuck, you’re hurt,” I said, looking up at her.
Monet smirked. “No kidding. Not only did you… well, you know. You strapped me. Was that supposed to feel good?” she asked.
“Don’t be a smartass,” I chided as I stood and lifted her to sit on the table. Taking her leg, I held it while I gently began working the thorn from her skin. “This is deep. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“How could I?” she asked, hissing a bit as the thorn came free, a fresh drop of blood welling in its place. “I couldn’t exactly talk with your cock halfway down my throat.”
“Good point,” I said as I swiped at the blood with my finger, only to see another drop take its place. I lifted her to her feet again. She winced, pressing her hand against my chest for balance as I pulled her clothes back into place. I noticed other marks on her body as I ran my fingers along her skin, unable to clearly see the damage but easily able to feel the scrapes and puncture wounds caused from the thorny trellis descent. I was about to sweep her up into my arms to carry her inside when she smiled, her hand reaching for me. When it wrapped around my cock, I realized I’d not put it away. When it twitched, she gasped and her gaze flicked up to mine.
“I suggest you hurry or I’ll be pulling your pants down again,” I warned, loving her blush as she tucked me back into my jeans and pulled up the zipper. Once I was dressed, I swept her up in my arms, turned out the lantern, and headed toward the house.
“I can walk, you know,” she said.
“I know,” I said, not about to put her down until I had her in the house and in the light where I could clearly see what needed to be done. Having her aching from punishment or a good hard fucking was one thing. Having her hurt from injury was something entirely different. I didn’t set her down until I placed her in one of the kitchen chairs. “Stay.”
Chapter Twelve
Monet
Without another word, he left me at the table and disappeared.
Glad for the moment of solitude, I tried to get myself together as I wiggled on the chair. I hadn’t squirmed simply from the discomfort of the strapping. Yes, I couldn’t deny that my ass was burning from the lines of fire Derrick had laid across my ass cheeks, but it was the burn that refused to dissipate from what he’d done between them that had me moaning and dropping my face into my hands.
Every pulse of my blood reminded me he’d shoved his thumb inside my ass! My ass! And as shocking and horrid as that had been, what was even worse was that I’d screamed and experienced the most amazing orgasm of my life the moment he’d done it. How was that even possible? And then he fucked me. Fucked my ass! Fucked me in the most aggressive and basest way possible, and I’d loved it. I’d loved absolutely every minute of it.
God, what the fuck was wrong with me? Even now, I could feel my pussy leaking, the memory of his fingers and then his cock deep inside my body, the throbbing that was still happening. All of it had me confused and… wanting it to happen all over again—all of it—and that scared the shit out of me. But the most shameful thing about the whole experience was that I’d confessed to Derrick I didn’t want just him.
This morning when Rogan kissed me in the kitchen, I’d felt my entire body respond. Hours later, I’d had his brother’s cock in my mouth, eagerly sucking and licking every single inch, moaning with each thrust down my throat, knowing he was going to shove that huge rod up my ass. And now? I wanted it again with both of them and the other two O’Shea brothers. Derrick had made me say it. He’d made me admit it. And he was right! Was I a goddamn slut? Why did I have this hunger and these lust-filled thoughts about them all?
I should be furious, should be humiliated, and yet I couldn’t seem to find either emotion. Instead, I felt… what? Surely, I didn’t agree with his use of corporal punishment. I mean, seriously, who actually believed physical discipline was the answer? Hearing the sound of boots thudding against the floor, I had to admit at least one person did. But even the strapping hadn’t been just discipline… I’d seen the look on his face as he’d handled the strap. I’d felt the kiss of the leather across my flesh. It hurt like fuck but… it had almost seemed like some sort of foreplay, the pain heightening every other sensation, every touch, each look we exchanged. Before I could consider what had happened any further, Derrick was back, but he had Cal walking behind him with a look of concern on his face.
Cal set down the first aid kit he’d brought with him.
“All right, let Cal see what the damage is. He’s our go-to man in this family to deal with all the injuries,” Derrick said softly. Any anger he’d had seemed to have vanished. “I’ll leave Cal to take care of this.” Slapping his brother on his shoulder, he added, “She’s all yours. I’m going to bed,” before exiting the kitchen like nothing had happened between us in the woodshed.
I had no desire to argue or even call out to the man whom I had just had sex with, allowing my hand to fall open in Cal’s outstretched palm.
Cal’s eyes met mine, and he shook his head. “I can’t believe you did something so stupid.”
I sat in silence. I had no good excuse and all the spit and vinegar had left my body—or more like had been fucked out of me by one large cock.
Gradually, he began to remove the thorns
, working his way up each arm and down each leg. The moment his hands began to roam, I flashed back to his truck—how he’d kissed me, pulled me onto his lap, unbuttoned my blouse, cupped my…
“You all right?”
The question pulled me from the memory, and I nodded because how could I admit I wasn’t? I knew he wasn’t asking about my mental state—that question was one I’d have to consider at length and in private. After a moment, he nodded as well and returned to his examination. I was stunned by how gentle his strong hands could be. Quite opposite from the hands of Derrick that had held me in place and had wielded a strap against me. Cal’s touch was warm and soft.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” He didn’t look up as his attention was focused intently on each thorn.
His question had me realize I’d given a soft moan at his touch. Still, I huffed. “Your brother wasn’t concerned about that when he was strapping me in the woodshed.”
Cal continued to remove the thorns, never making eye contact. “We both know you had that coming. Be glad the four of us decided to let him handle it instead of each of us taking a turn. Your punishment could have been a hell of a lot worse.”
“Honestly? Did you just use the word punishment? You actually think I had a strapping coming? You can’t be serious.”
Cal plucked the last thorn out of my arm. “I am. If you’d obeyed and not acted like a rebellious teenager sneaking out the window we all heard you fall from, it wouldn’t have been necessary.” He finally looked up. “So, not only do I know you had a strapping coming, you now know there will be more where that one came from if you don’t behave.” He ran his fingers along my arms, my legs and then my hands tenderly. “I think I got them all out. Can you feel any more?”
